


The King In Orange

by Laqueus



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Body Horror, Eldritch!Felix, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-18 01:21:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7293721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laqueus/pseuds/Laqueus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not the fall that kills you.<br/>Yes, it destroys your body.<br/>But it does not kill you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was a gift for mostlyv0id-partiallystars over on tumblr, and grew out of a... I dunno, prompt? Idea? Or sorts, of Felix being this eldritch being walking around in human form. I originally posted the post that inspired here in the notes, but it was rather long and looked a bit ridiculous, so I plonked it in the second chapter!
> 
> Also, a warning, this does contain some body horror and gore!

What the fuck.

What _the fuck._

Somewhere on a little alien planet, forgotten by the UNSC, at the base of a tower so tall that it pierced the clouds, something twitched. A pair of eyes peering out from a cracked visor opened and swivelled around. This particular pair of eyes had many different appearances, depending on the mood of its owner, but the one constant of them, was that they somehow looked unnaturally flat and dead. In this particular situation however, that would be normal. A lump of flesh quivered, and twitched some more.

They killed him.

Those _idiots_ had the gall to _kill him_.

Bone crunched and snapped as an arm knit itself back together, rotating into position. A jaw, hanging on by just a flap of skin, shunted itself back under the skull. Dripping flesh, resembling pulp more than anything else, slid back over bone, as skin began to bloom and cover it once more.

Well. In actual fact he wasn’t _dead_ (and it’d take more than a dumb fall off some forsaken tower to do something as glorious as _him_ in), but from a human standpoint, yeah, he was pretty dead. Those ragtag colourful morons had somehow managed to kill his human construct, and destroy it in such a way that he was now having to put his damned body back together like some sort of kit.

Oh, what the _fuck_.

With a start, Felix sat up, still half formed, covered in his own juices, only one arm properly attached, and looked down at his legs.

Great. Just great.

Bits and pieces of armour was sticking out of his flesh, fused with it like some sort of techno-organic hybrid. This is what happens when you don’t pay attention to reforming your body, and have worn armour for a really, _really_ long time. 

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Felix muttered, as he began the arduous process of undoing the work so far and extracting the armour.

What a fucking day. First one of his favourite toys, Kimball, goes and teams up with her enemy’s forces after Doyle went and did the human thing of getting himself killed, then his other favourite toy, Locus, decided to _grow a conscience_ of all things (a _conscience!_ What a concept), and finally, finally! Those multicoloured morons who turned out a to be a bit of a wild card, had the gall to be… _competent_. Ugh.

At that moment, part of Felix just wanted to get and up and walk away, nevermind the armour still stuck in him, or the fact that he resembled a walking meat-puppet. Maybe he would. Give someone a nice jolt of fear at his appearance. Or maybe he’d just say to hell with it, and slough off his human form altogether, go around in his eldritch form for a while. Maybe travel to another planet, scare the locals into worshipping him as a god for a while, and then destroy them all completely just for kicks. He could use the ego boost it’d give him.

_But…_

Felix paused.

Humans nowadays weren’t as cowardly as they’d once been. They were more prone to objecting if there was something they didn’t like, and would take measures to change things. For example, being mad enough to fight some sort of eldritch abomination. Annoying as it was, it was one of the things Felix liked about humans. It made everything so much more interesting and prone to manipulation and _fun_.

Hm.

Maybe he’d stay in his human form for a little longer. After all, humans were so easily manipulated, and doing things when posing as one of them made it all the more hilarious. Like being in the middle of a burning house, as opposed to a bystander standing in the street. It’d be a nice bit of fun after the fiasco his last plan had become. Once he’d finally reconstructed himself (and made some nice touches, like too many fingers on one hand, and a bleeding mouth on his chest), Felix looked back up at the tower. It was a heck of a long way to fall. Pstch. Whatever. Normally he would have gone after those damned Reds and Blues, but for now he was sick to the throat-teeth of them. They were the universe’s problem, not his. Fuck ‘em. And fuck Chorus and all it’s shitty inhabitants too! He was done with them. And as for Locus? Bah, he was just another broken partner, content to lie in the bed he’d made.

Turning his back on the tower, Felix began to walk away. He was off to have fun elsewhere. Maybe on a hot planet filled with sunshine and beaches, where he could scam people out of their riches, and get a new toy to play with.

Humans were _so_ much fun, after all.


	2. The Original Post

"For the send thing: imagine Eldritch!Felix. Ancient, immortal, a trickster from ages bygone, who wears the the form of a human like an old leather coat.

Why does he take on such a form? people wonder, when his true form can inspire so many conflicting emotions in people. Ah, but it is so much more fun to mess with humans this way, walk among them as if you are one of them, see how easily you can toy with them, like a fox among hens.

He wears a helmet, and enjoys the flash of discomfort that twists their features when they see his face. His eyes are flat and empty, sometimes just an orange sclera, sometimes sclera and iris but no pupil, other times all iris, sometimes all pupil. Other times he forms eyes in unsuspecting places, dots them around like putting stickers on a map, palms, shoulders, the end of his nose, the insides of his heels. People look at Felix’s human form, and something compells them to say that he is empty, and they never know why.

Orange blood drips from a void in his back, tentacles writhing and creeping out as if they’re investigating a new world.

Sometimes Felix takes a partner in-crime, a favourite game of his, where the partnership is non-existant and it is all Felix all the time, pulling the strings from above, finding their flaws and wedging the knife in to make them do his bidding. If they’re boring or break too easily, then Felix gets bored, and may abandon them in that state, or reveals his true form to them. They never truly comprehend it, the only thing they can comprehend is orange, orange, orange so much orange. Sometimes they die instantly from seeing him this way, and Felix cares not.

Kimball and Locus are probably his most favourite toys yet, the General who keeps on going even as her men die all around and what hope she has had long since died, and the mercinary who clings onto his identity as a solider like a shield from the outside world.

And so Felix moves through the world, his playground."


End file.
